


these words on your skin like a brand (like a promise)

by OnyxDay



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 16:07:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14814545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnyxDay/pseuds/OnyxDay
Summary: When Dean was a child, his words gave him hope.As a teenager, they scared him.As an adult, they mostly just made him angry, for so many reasons but none so painful as the broken promise they represent.But then nothing is ever so simple as all that.





	these words on your skin like a brand (like a promise)

Dean's had the words _Dean Winchester is saved_ printed on his skin from the day he was born.

They were the first words Dean learned to read, the first he could spell, and he considered them his favorite words since he learned what they meant. Dean liked to believe that his words were proof that someone out there would protect him no matter what, a sentiment he clung to all the more tightly after his mom died. His dad didn't like talking about soulmates after that, and every time he caught a glimpse of Dean's words he'd get this look on his face like he'd just sucked on a lemon. So Dean tried to cover it up as much as he could - somewhat difficult since it was scrawled over his left bicep in shimmering blue ink, though doable as long as he never wore short sleeves.

After his mom died, Dean didn't speak much, only whispered words to his little brother in the middle of the night when no one could hear them. Words of comfort, grand stories of soulmates and the words scrawled across their skin, promises that one day Sammy would get his own words. That was the only time Dean talked about soulmates.

Still, Dean couldn't help but run his fingers over the words when he needed comfort. They gave him hope.

Then he learned about monsters.

By the time Dean was in high school he had given up on the idea of some perfect partner that could save him from all the horrible things in the world. Now his words no longer brought the comfort of his childhood but instead sent a wave of fear down his back so deep and visceral that he could taste it in his throat. Not fear for himself, no his words guaranteed he would be safe. Rather, he was scared for his soulmate. He was certain they would be a hunter like himself and his father, risking themself every day in the fight against the monster of the world. He was terrified that the first words his soulmate would ever say to him would also be their last.

It was this fear that pushed Dean into being the best hunter he could. He'd been protecting Sammy since he was four, and he'd be damned if he couldn't protect his soulmate too.

He found himself sleeping with one hand on his words and the other gripping a weapon.

After Sam left for college and Dean went off to hunt on his own he began to hope again. Every new hunt held the potential for him to meet his soulmate, but each one that passed without the words being said carved away at that hope.

Then his dad disappeared.

Then Sammy lost his soulmate, poor sweet Jess whose _Watch where you're going Sasquatch_ had gone pale against Sam's skin. Sam who was a shell of a man, who threw himself back into hunting just like their father had when their mother died.

Dean wondered if that was the fate of the Winchester men, to lose their soulmates young and tragically. That old fear of his came back with a vengeance after that.

Still, hunting with Sammy was nice. He had been on his own for so long and having his brother with him was a relief. Of course, nothing good ever lasts very long around Winchesters.

Dean watched his brother die.

Then he brought him back at the expense of his own time on earth. Dean wondered what would happen to his soulmate when he died. Would their words go pale like Sam's? Or would the Universe be nice enough to give them a new one after he was dragged to Hell?

His last thought was that at least his soulmate would be spared the pain of knowing him.

His first thought was 'what the fuck?' shortly followed by 'how?' then a determination to get out of the pine box before he suffocated.

He stared at his gravesite and the surrounding destruction with a creeping sense of dread.

That dread turned to confusion once he got to the gas station and checked his shoulder. His words were still there, but instead of resting on his skin, they stretched over a handprint scar.

Things happened almost too quickly to process after that, Bobby then Sam and suddenly he was in a barn, facing off a strange man in a trenchcoat who claimed he was an angel of the Lord.

"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition," said in that low gravely voice that, despite his best efforts, went right to the core of him. Then Dean stabbed the man and he was pulling the knife out like it was nothing, and then Bobby was on the floor and he was alone with the- the _thing_ that had dragged his ass out of Hell.

All of the sudden Dean's balls deep in the Apocalypse, angels and demons duking it out over him and his brother and it's too much, okay? He can't deal with this _and_ finding his soulmate and then there's Anna who says the words on his arm like it's nothing, like it's not the worst thing to happen to Dean - and yes, he's including dying in that list.

Because Anna isn't his soulmate, but when she says those words it narrows down the list of potentials to a very specific group.

An angel for a soulmate. It's gotta be some kind of cosmic joke because as far as Dean can tell the angels are almost as bad as the demons.

There's no time for him to figure out which angel said it first.

(He has a hunch, which slowly transforms into hope, but he doesn't let himself dwell on it too long.)

Things get pretty fucked up after that.

Dean's kneeling in a graveyard, bloody and broken and so very lost. Castiel is gone, Bobby's gone, Sam is-

Then suddenly warmth.

And there's Cas and he healed him and he healed Bobby, but Sam is gone, gone, gone. And Dean knows Cas is about to flap away, and that can't happen, he won't let it because Cas is _family_ and he suddenly realizes that Cas has been family for a while and Dean's lost enough family thankyouverymuch and he can't lose anyone else.

So Cas stays.

And Dean knows he should go to Lisa, should try to find some semblance of normalcy, of happiness, that it's what Sammy wanted. But he can't. He can't continue hunting either. He doesn't know what to do, exactly, but he knows he wants Cas with him.

But first...

"Cas?"

They're at Bobby's, Dean laying against the hood of the Impala, Cas standing on the porch not too far away, and Dean can't stand the distance anymore.

"Yes, Dean?"

"Do angels have soulmates?"

It's quiet for a long time after that. Dean turns his head, just to check, just to make sure Cas didn't fly away on him. Cas is still there, staring into the distance like he could 

"Angels have no souls, so it stands to reason that we would have no soulmate."

There's a hesitance to his words that indicates he's hiding something.

"But?"

"An angel that Falls and gains a soul, the way Anna did, when they are reborn they gain a soulmate, much in the same way a human child would. For an angel in full possession of their Grace to have a soulmate would be... unprecedented."

"Still sensing a 'but' here, Cas."

Cas sends him a scathing look, one that Dean can't help but smile at, even if it means the glare intensifies.

"I'm getting to it, Dean. Some patience would be appreciated."

Dean simply smiles wider and raises his hands in acceptance.

"Please continue."

Cas takes a breath, something he doesn't need but has adopted to blend in amongst humanity, and leans against the porch's railing. It's perhaps the most casual Dean has seen him since he drank a liquor store.

"When an angel takes a vessel the soulwords disappear, the same way the would when a demon possesses a host. This is because the words are not marked into the skin, as many humans believe, but rather an extension of a deeper mark made on the soul. You may have noticed this when Jimmy was given control of his body once more."

It was hard not to, Jimmy's words printed clearly on the skin of his neck in a very startling shade of orange.

"So you can imagine my surprise when I found a set of words over my heart."

Dean's head whipped up so fast he pulled a muscle.

"What?"

"I don't know when they first appeared, I wasn't looking for them, so I didn't notice. Perhaps they were always there, simply another part of my Grace. Or perhaps they only appeared once I started to Fall. I have no way of knowing."

Dean has to swallow a lump in his throat before he can speak.

"Do you know who it is?"

Cas smiles softly, but with a bitter twist to his mouth that Dean wants to smooth out, and nods.

"Yes."

"Who?"

Dean's voice cracks as he tries to choke down the fear and hope battling it out in his chest. Cas turns to him, that soft bitter smile still on his lips, but there are tears in his eyes and it hits Dean that he's never seen the angel cry. He doesn't think he'd like a repeat performance of that.

"Someone I can never have."

Fuck that.

Dean slides off the Impala and storms up to the porch, a determined set to his shoulders as he rips off the flannel he was wearing and yanks up the sleeve of his t-shirt, bearing his words and Castiel's handprint for the world to see. For Cas to see.

"You said these words, didn't you? _Dean Winchester is saved_ , that was the first thing you said to me in Hell, right? Your words, your hand, permanently marked on my skin, on my fucking _soul_. You're my soulmate, aren't you?"

"Yes."

The word is said so softly, so weakly, that Dean hardly believes it came from Cas's mouth.

Dean nods and pulls his sleeve down, then slowly, carefully, reaches out and unbuttons Cas's shirt. He takes a moment, looks up at Cas's face - his eyes closed but tears falling down his cheeks anyway - before he slowly peeled back the white fabric.

And there, plain as day, in Dean's own handwriting, were the words _Who are you_.

Dean only vaguely remembers saying them, that barn in Illinois feeling like it was decades ago, but he's sure the words are his.

"Dean..."

"Cas."

And then they're kissing.

And Dean finally knows what his words mean. He finally knows the promise behind them, the devotion.

The love.


End file.
